#41 ·
ironmarlin1 said:I honestly can't help but feel that we’re all just circling the drain when it comes to discussing this particular subject, drifting through these endless debates without ever truly grasping the core of the matter. It's much like watching a slow-motion replay of a championship game where you know exactly how the play ends, yet you find yourself mesmerized by the sheer, agonizing tension of the buildup. There is a certain weight to these discussions, a gravity that pulls us in, much like how one might feel sitting in a quiet corner of a dim library in Boston, surrounded by the heavy scent of old paper and the unspoken wisdom of centuries. We tend to get lost in the minutiae, focusing on the tiny, jagged edges of an argument while completely ignoring the broad, sweeping landscape that defines the entire conflict. I find myself wondering if we are even capable of seeing the forest for the trees anymore, or if we have become too enamored with our own specialized lenses to ever appreciate the view from the summit. It feels as though we are constantly rearranging the furniture in a house that is already being reclaimed by the elements, performing these intricate little rituals of logic and rhetoric while the very foundation shifts beneath our feet. Perhaps there is a sense of comfort in the repetition, a way to stave off the realization that some questions simply don't have answers that satisfy the soul, but I cannot shake the feeling that we are merely stalling for time. kaže:
I’ll be the first to admit that the ending is absolutely pathetic, but honestly, even that level of melodrama can’t overshadow the core message this entire film carries. Having followed Lars' work quite closely over the years, I don't think any of his previous takes on Medea have ever truly topped this one. I haven't actually had a chance to sit down and watch *Europa* yet—though my expectations for it are sky-high—but since I know you hold an atheist worldview, I completely understand why those Christian undertones left such a bad taste in your mouth. For me, though, I tend to view those religious elements through a purely symbolic lens; religion doesn't carry much weight in my own life either, but I don't exactly harbor a deep-seated aversion to it like some others might.
I don't really have anything against Christian undertones appearing in films—unless, of course, that religious subtext is the entire point of the narrative or something along those lines. It’s giving off major snuff film vibes. It brings to mind those heavy religious epics—think along the lines of *Passion*. But here, there’s this lingering sense that religion is being used as a sort of cosmic "thank you" note to a woman simply because she sacrificed herself for a man, essentially playing out his specific fantasies. It feels like a strange way to frame devotion, though I suppose I’m just circling back to my own point again. 😍Just one more little thing... have you ever heard of the Aghori? They’re these Hindu ascetics who, even when engaging in their most gruesome and necrophilic rituals, manage to maintain this incredible, unwavering devotion. It’s a heavy concept, I know, but there's something profoundly striking about that kind of absolute commitment. Clean.There’s something almost "Artemidian" about the way he absolutely surrenders himself to his obsessions; it's a total immersion into these heavy, profound themes that feel almost too weighty for a casual conversation right now. But let's be honest—this film isn't nearly as innocent as it might appear on the surface.
You know, you often see these little archetypal nods scattered throughout cinema—think of those Nietzschean tensions between the Apollonian and Dionysian elements, for instance. Not necessarily in this specific film, but as a general phenomenon in the medium. I can't help but feel that, more often than not, we aren't actually seeing what the film implies, but rather just projecting whatever it is we're itching to see onto the screen. It’s a simple byproduct of the fact that a single cluster of facts, or a sequence of events, can be twisted into countless different and even contradictory interpretations. Honestly, I think the absolute worst thing you can do in art is go hunting for the "artist's intention," acting as if the creator holds some sort of divine authority over how their work is understood.
I certainly agree that one ought to strive for goodness, 😁, but even if Trier's intention was to portray virtue through the lens of cinema, that doesn't mean the film actually succeeds in doing so. Instead, what we see is a depiction of how female naivety can be exploited—or, had the film taken a different path, perhaps a descent into madness.
He tells her to sleep with others and that she should tell him about it. But then, suggesting he actually said this to encourage her independence—and that her telling him about sleeping with others is somehow an issue—makes it sound as though sex itself is a moral failing (even though the film never implies that). If she wouldn't have slept with anyone else under any other circumstances, then the way the film ends suggests that God is satisfied with this exploitation and that her actions were somehow righteous. To me, that feels like a deeply inhumane stance toward women.
That is a very wise conclusion, though perhaps you should apply it to yourself. 😁
The reality is that everyone sees exactly what they wish to see—or more accurately, what they are capable of seeing—depending entirely upon the conceptual framework surrounding the viewer.
By observing our own reactions and the concepts we hold, we gain direct insight into ourselves.
